Brian stood over the sink, scrubbing the blood from his trembling hands.
In the living room, the body lay hidden under the rolled-up carpet, the dark red seeping through the fibers.
The air was thick with the metallic stench of blood, mixing with his own ragged breaths.
Shit, he thought, eyes locked on his reflection.
He stared deep into his own gaze, jaw clenched.
"You got this, Brian," he told himself. "You got this for Love."
He couldn't control the trembling in his hands. His clothes were completely off; he was standing there stark naked. The blood wouldn't come out no matter how hard he scrubbed, and he was scrubbing so fiercely it felt like he might rip the skin off his hands.
"Ahhhh FUCKKK!" he suddenly screamed. "What have I done? Wh–what have I done?" he sobbed to himself.
He dropped to his knees in front of the sink and began to cry uncontrollably. It was as if every drop of water in his body was pouring out through his tears.
"Is this what I deserve? IS THIS WHAT I FUCKING DESERVE?"
He started punching the wall, but after a few blows the pain forced him to stop.
Wearing only his boxers, he stepped into the living room. When he saw Michelle, hands and mouth bound, he knelt in front of her.
"Shhhh. Everything's gonna be okay, alright? I'll take care of everything," he said.
Michelle tried to scream, her face purple from crying for so long. The rolled carpet that held Theo was a huge problem. He had killed a man. And he needed to get rid of the body.
If he got caught, prison was certain—and life without Love was—
"Shit… Love?" he blurted, suddenly running upstairs and throwing on some of Theo's clothes.
He had left Love alone in the car for far too long. If she woke up, it could be dangerous. He bolted out of the house and sprinted toward the car—
But things were worse than he'd imagined. People had seen the baby locked in the car and, naturally, called the police. Officers were trying to get the door open rather than search for the owner.
Brian couldn't go there covered in blood. If the police saw him, they'd look at the house, and they'd find the body. But even without that, the car being there was already bad enough. They'd investigate, trace the car to him, and the case would open.
And that wasn't the only problem—once Theo's body disappeared, his loved ones would start looking for him. When the police eventually got involved and learned Theo was last seen the day Brian's car was there, all the blame would fall on him.
He was completely cornered.
"What am I gonna do? What the fuck am I gonna do?" he muttered, hiding behind another car, peeking at the scene.
His chest was tight with fear and dread. Getting caught wasn't an option—it couldn't be.
While the officers kept working at the car, Brian slipped back into the house. He pulled the tape from Michelle's mouth, quickly covering it with his hand before she could scream.
"Listen—if you do what I say right now, I'll forgive you for everything. I might even marry you again. You just have to do exactly what I tell you," he said, kneeling in front of her, hands gripping her shoulders.
"I'm gonna take your gag off. Don't scream."
Michelle sat there, completely emotionless. Brian slowly uncovered her mouth. Her swollen, tear-bruised eyes locked on him, and if you looked closely, you could see every emotion flickering there.
"Yo—you sick fuck," she rasped. "You—you fucking killed him. How the fuck do you dare ask for my help?"
"I'm gonna fix everything. Trust me." He smiled, then stood and glanced outside. The officers were still trying to open the car.
"Oh, my sweet Love… I'll save you, don't you worry," he said out loud.
From the kitchen floor, Michelle muttered, "Kill me."
Brian froze. "Wh–what?"
"Fucking kill me already!" she snapped. "What the hell are you waiting for? Kill me already!"
Tears rolled down her cheeks again. Brian just stared, his own eyes glassy.
Realizing Michelle wasn't going to help, he knew he had to find another way.
He slipped outside to the house next door—the one he'd taken bricks from. The residents were at the window, watching the commotion. Brian picked up a rock and smashed their upstairs window. Screams erupted inside, but no one ran to the police yet.
He moved to the next house and threw another rock, breaking another window from that direction. The idea was to draw suspicion away from Michelle and Theo's house.
The homeowners ran out to the street, shouting. "Help! Someone's shooting at our house! Help!"
The two officers on the scene turned at once. The locksmith they'd called still hadn't arrived. While they were distracted, Brian approached the car. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked.
The bystanders explained. "This is my car, I'm Thomas Brightman," Brian lied smoothly. "I just stopped by to see my girlfriend. I'm leaving now."
One man grabbed his arm as he tried to get in the car. "HEY! This kid's been in here for hours—what if she died? Are you fucking stupid? Who leaves a baby in a car?"
"You're right, man. It was a mistake. Let me go." The crowd was mostly older women, except for the man holding him—who punched Brian once.
"YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT! MEN LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T BE FATHERS!" he yelled, shaking him hard.
As the crowd pressed toward the car, Brian managed to slip inside, start it, and drive away.
Did they get the plate number? The thought clawed at his mind as he drove.
Michelle was still at home, gagged. He needed to get back to the scene of the murder fast. Love calmed slightly when she saw him but kept crying. Finally, Brian couldn't take it—he pulled over, got out, opened the back door, and took her into his arms.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So—so sorry. It'll never happen again, I promise."
But she wouldn't stop crying. The fear she'd felt alone in that car was pouring out now in sobs.
While he stood there rocking her, a police cruiser pulled up, sirens blaring, stopping right in front of his car.
"Brian Easton? That's you?" one of the two officers asked.
"Ye—yeah?" Brian answered weakly.
They checked his ID, then said, "We need you to come down to the station with us."
With Love in his arms, they drove him to the station. In the back seat, Brian's mind spiraled. It's over. I'm sorry, Love. I'm sorry I couldn't be a good father. On top of that, I killed a man. Please forgive me. Come visit me someday, okay?
A tear slid down his cheek. The officer in the passenger seat noticed. "You okay, sir?"
"Yeah… just scared me to see her like that."
"Don't worry. We'll get to the bottom of everything at the station," the officer said.
Brian sat in the interrogation room, leaning on the edge of the table. Love was still hiccupping in the arms of a female officer by the door. The metal chair was cold, but the chill inside him was worse.
The door opened, and two officers walked in. The older one started.
"Mr. Easton, you left your vehicle locked with your daughter inside. Were you aware of that?"
Brian cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, I'm aware, and I'm really sorry. It was entirely my fault, I'm truly sorry." His lips trembled as he spoke.
The officers watched him closely, puzzled by how shaken he seemed.
"What were you doing there?" the same officer asked, eyes fixed on him.
Brian clasped his hands together, elbows on the table, chin resting on his fingers. "I was driving… we do laps around the city every night so she'll fall asleep. It's hard for her to sleep without the car. Then I passed by my ex-wife's place. I stopped to say hi, was gonna bring Love inside, but she was asleep and I didn't want to wake her. Once she wakes up, it's really hard to get her back down."
He coughed harshly, a lump in his throat. The female officer watched him intently. The other two seemed to find his explanation reasonable.
"So why didn't you come back sooner? Why didn't you return to the car?" the older one pressed.
"We talked for a bit, and when I came back out, the police were already running around, people were shouting from the next house. There were a bunch of people around my car. I ran over, worried something happened to Love, and when I saw her crying, I just took her to leave."
His voice had steadied, but eye contact was still difficult. The officers seemed to sense something was off.
"What about the broken windows at the house next door?"
"I don't know anything about that, but I heard the noise. That's why I came outside. Then I saw my car." He fidgeted, bouncing his leg. Stay calm. You can do this. You have to.
"Why didn't you answer our calls? We ran your plate, got your name, tried to reach you." The younger officer was still standing, eyes locked on Brian.
"My phone was on silent. I didn't hear anything. This is one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I'm a single dad—my wife left us. I'm doing my best to be a good father, but I guess I screwed up." His voice wavered toward the end, eyes glassy.
"What happened to your face?" the older one asked, noting the bruises and cuts.
"I told the cops before—I got into a bar fight. That's where it's from."
"Looks fresh. You sure it's from before?"
"Last night, sir. That's why it looks that way."
The officers exchanged a glance. The younger one scribbled in his notebook.
"Mr. Easton, this is serious. Leaving a child like that is child endangerment. We'll file a report and notify social services."
Brian leaned forward. "I understand. I take full responsibility. I just want to take my daughter home and make sure this never happens again."
A pause. The older officer sighed. "Alright. You've given your statement, the report's filed. But if this happens again, you'll be arrested. Understood?"
Brian nodded. "Understood."
The female officer handed Love back to him. The warmth of her small body against his chest eased some of the tension. But he knew—there was still a body in that carpet waiting for him.
Brian drove straight home, pulling into the driveway and leaving the car there. He tossed the keys inside the house—he wasn't planning on taking the car back to the scene. If the police showed up, he wanted to create an escape window, a way for them not to immediately connect him to being there.
Inside, he went straight to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror for a long moment, took a deep breath, and muttered, "You got this. There ain't no other way. You got this."
Sliding Love into a front baby carrier, he checked the time—it was 1 a.m.—and called for a taxi.
When he reached Michelle's house, she was alone, lying on the floor, struggling against the ropes on her wrists and ankles. Through a small gap in the carpet, she could see Theo's body, and it terrified her. She had never seen a corpse before—let alone the man she had loved. Her crying hadn't stopped. The fear in her chest wasn't going anywhere.
Brian pulled his cap low over his head. He paid the driver and deliberately got out a street behind the house, taking a route through the neighbors' yards to avoid being seen on the street. What if there were cameras? Would they check them? Fuck this , he thought bitterly, but it was too late—he was already moving between backyards.
He slipped in through the back door. Michelle tried to scream when she saw him—especially when she noticed Love in his arms—but what came out was a muffled, panicked sound. She was trembling with both rage and terror.
Brian knelt in front of her. "Shut up. Don't move. I'll fix everything."
He set Love down, rolled the carpet tighter around Theo, and sealed it completely with duct tape. Then he dragged it to the basement.
Then he ran upstairs and grabbed a bucket of water and detergent from the bathroom.
He scrubbed everywhere thoroughly, trying to remove all the bloodstains.
The bloodstain on the curtain, however, had dried, and because it had dried, it wouldn't come out.
He immediately pulled the curtain down from where it hung.
He went into the kitchen, looking for a large garbage bag.
Because he was trying to do everything so quickly, his hands and feet were getting tangled.
Love was sitting there on the floor, just like that.
She was looking at her mother, as if trying to recognize her.
Michelle was crying with her mouth taped shut.
Brian quickly knelt down in front of Michelle again.
"Where are the garbage bags?" he asked.
Michelle just stared. She gave no reaction, not even bothering to answer.
"Michelle, MICHELLE!" he said, not shouting, but with a very hard, deep tone that came from inside.
"Where the fuck are the garbage bags?" he asked again.
When Michelle still just stared at him without answering, Brian straightened up and started searching the house.
He also kept glancing at Love from the corner of his eye, making sure to keep an eye on her.
Love, unaware of what was happening, was playing with the TV remote that had fallen on the floor, amusing herself in her own way.
Brian quickly went down to the basement, turned on the lights, but because of the age and weakness of the bulb, the room was lit with only a faint yellow glow.
After flickering a few times, the bulb finally came on, making a noise as if it was about to burn out.
Brian immediately scanned the place, but still couldn't find anything.
Then he noticed the cabinet behind the place where Theo's body was.
When he opened the cabinet—boom. Garbage bags were there.
And not just garbage bags—there were also plenty of cleaning supplies.
Taking the bags, he went upstairs.
Everything that came into his hands went into the garbage bags: the broken vase, the broken chairs, the pillows and tablecloths with blood on them—everything went into the bags.
At the same time, he was making notes on his phone of everything he was throwing away.
The cleaning was roughly finished.
He went into the kitchen, took a cloth in his hand, and wiped every surface he had touched or thought he might have touched.
Because his glove had torn during the fight, there could be fingerprints everywhere.
He wiped the couch, the table, the floors from end to end.
By then, Love was getting sleepy and had started to get cranky.
Once Brian had roughly finished everything, he picked Love up in his arms and said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, we're leaving now."
Then he set Love back down again.
Although she got a little cranky when she was put down, when she saw her father lifting Michelle—her mother—into his arms, she fell silent, watching them with her mouth open.
Brian was taking Michelle down to the basement; Michelle was struggling.
He set Michelle right across from Theo.
He added several more strips of tape over the tape already on her mouth.
He tightened the ropes on her hands and feet even more.
Michelle was looking at him, full of fear.
Brian said, "I'm… I'm sorry. I'll be back. For now, I have to do this." His voice was still trembling.
He locked the basement and, taking the garbage bags and Love, left the house.
He turned off all the lights in the house, locked every door and window.
He had taken Michelle's keys, and after leaving through the back door, he locked it too.
He had also taken Michelle's and Theo's phones.
He had forced Michelle to give him the passwords and had unlocked them to use later.
When he reached the back street where the taxi had dropped him off earlier, he didn't cut through the yards this time.
If the houses had cameras, walking through with a garbage bag would attract a lot of attention.
He left through the back door and started walking without entering any yards.
He walked alongside the fences, not stepping into any property.
If there were cameras, they would see him from there too, but he wasn't thinking about that in the moment.
When he reached the back street, he kept walking for a few more blocks.
The streets were empty at night, and the wind was blowing.
Love was sleepy now, getting even crankier, and she was cold too.
Brian quickly called a taxi to his location.
Love started crying, and he took his daughter out of the baby carrier, holding her tightly, wrapping his jacket around her.
He tried to make sure she wouldn't get cold.
At the same time, he kept moving constantly, trying to warm both himself and his daughter.
When he entered the house, he was going to put his daughter straight to bed, but Love had already fallen asleep in the taxi.
Brian carefully and slowly placed her in her crib without waking her.
And that was the first moment since committing the murder that he found himself completely alone.
Everything hit him at once.
He had killed someone.
This wasn't some normal crime.
Even if not in his heart, legally he had taken the life of an innocent man.
He sat down in the living room on the couch opposite the television.
He was thinking about the whole incident.
The moment kept flashing in his mind like a sudden replay.
He started trembling, losing control of his movements.
He sank to the floor and began crying, sobbing heavily but silently.
After a while, he pulled himself upright, stepped outside to the front of the house, and sat down in the chair.
He lit a cigarette.
His hands were shaking so much while holding it that he dropped it.
The fallen cigarette was swept away by the wind.
"Fuck, even a cigarette won't stay with me. Everyone who comes into my life fucks off and leaves. What am I doing to these people?" he thought.
Then he lit another cigarette.
His eyes were still wet with tears, and he was still on the edge of crying.
"I've… I've killed someone. I've fucking killed him. I'VE FUCKING KILLED THEO. How could I do something like this? Before, if I didn't have to, I wouldn't even hurt an ant. What happened to me? You… you—what did you do to me, Michelle?"
It was undoubtedly a huge crime he had committed, but would the punishment be just as great?
He hadn't slept until morning, hadn't even blinked.
He couldn't get that moment out of his mind, the chill inside him wouldn't go away.
What he was feeling wasn't remorse for Theo's death—he wasn't sad that Theo had died.
He was sad for the person who had killed Theo—himself.
All night he thought up scenarios in his head, what he would say to the police if he got caught.
But nothing came to mind.
If he got caught, everything would be over.
Brian would go to prison, and Love might end up with her mother—or maybe even in foster care.
Brian sat up immediately.
He got out of bed and checked on his daughter.
At 8 a.m., Virginia normally came every weekday.
But today was the weekend—she was off.
Still, what harm could it do to call and ask?
"Hey Virginia, I'm so sorry for disturbing you at this hour, but is there any chance you could come today? I'll pay you double what you normally get. We'll settle it at the end of the month," he said, his voice full of panic, sounding tense.
"Is everything okay, honey?" Virginia asked.
From his voice, she could tell something was wrong.
"It's fine, it's fine… I just have some things to do today. Can you come?" Brian said.
"What do you have to do?" Virginia asked.
Brian felt a surge of anger inside. None of your fucking business, he thought, but he had to answer.
"Well, I just started a new job, and there are some things I need to get. I also have to take the car to the shop. I don't want to drag Love along with me."
"Awww, honey, but I told you before. I take less money than others, but I don't come on Saturdays and Sundays."
"I know, that's why I'm offering to pay you double just for today."
"I'm sorry, honey. I can't come," Virginia said.
Fucking bitch—if you weren't gonna come, then why the fuck are you asking questions? he thought to himself.
But out loud he said, "Alright then, nothing to do about it, thanks," and hung up.
The moment he ended the call, he collapsed onto the couch, hitting the sides of his head with both hands.
Then he gripped his head tightly.
He had to think of something fast.
Scarlett came to mind.
Would Scarlett help him in a situation like this?
"Hey Scarlett, what are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm fine. You?" she replied, in the same cold tone as always.
Without changing the subject, he told her exactly what he had told Virginia and asked if she could watch Love for a day.
While he was speaking, he was thinking: Scarlett, a drug addict—would she harm his daughter?
When Scarlett arrived, Brian hugged her first.
Then he looked straight into her eyes.
She looked completely sober—and very beautiful.
Scarlett, however, was clearly tense.
It was the first time in her life she'd be alone with a baby.
"Hey, you got this. I trust you, okay?" Brian reassured her.
Scarlett nodded in agreement.
When Scarlett was left alone in the house with the baby, her mind went back ten years.
After that trauma she had lived through, she felt as if she had found the other half of herself she had lost—and now she had been entrusted with the care of that person's baby.
When Scarlett looked at Love, she saw her own unborn daughter.
Coincidentally, she had planned to name her daughter Love as well, and now, ten years later, she was holding a baby with that very name.
She picked Love up, hugged her tightly, and tears poured down her face like a flood she couldn't hold back.
Brian stopped in front of Michelle's house. He unlocked the locked front door with Michelle's key and stepped inside. The place was exactly as he had left it yesterday. He went down to the basement, carrying the bag of food he had picked up before coming. There was a faint smell in the air, but not yet the full stench of a corpse. Michelle was lying helpless on the floor, extremely thirsty and hungry. She had probably been unable to sleep last night as well.
Brian opened her mouth and asked, "Are you okay?"
Michelle looked at Brian for a while before speaking. "Do you think I'm okay, Brian?" she said in a very quiet and worn-out voice. She was still lying on the ground, not even trying to sit up.
"I'm trying to fix everyth—" Brian began, but Michelle cut him off.
"You can't fix a fucking thing. You son of a bitch." Her voice was still quiet and calm.
Brian was kneeling, his right knee on the ground while his left foot was planted firmly, leaning toward Michelle. "Do you remember the masked man—Desmond?" Michelle asked from where she lay, her hands and feet bound.
Brian stared blankly for a few seconds before replying, "Ye-yes, I do."
"Now, I want you to tell me, Brian. What's the difference between you and Desmond, huh?" Michelle said.
Brian froze again. Thinking about it,
"Don't you dare compare me to that man!" Brian answered, his voice quiet but filled with tension.
"Why? He used to watch people in secret. Didn't you?
He used to break into people's houses. Didn't you?
He used to tie people up and leave them there. Didn't you?
HE KİLLED PEOPLE! DİDN'T YOU ?"
Michelle's voice grew louder with each sentence until she was shouting.
"That ain't the same, NOT AT ALL!" Brian shouted back, standing up. "I didn't come here to kill Theo—it happened in the moment. I didn't even mean to attack him, just to scare him. I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE!"
"You didn't do it on purpose ? YOU DIDN'T FUCKING DO IT ON PURPOSE ? Tell that to my ass! I saw you—you put the knife to his throat and cut it right away. How the fuck does that happen by accident, huh?"
"Don't act like you're innocent, Michelle. You're just as guilty as I am."
"AS GUILTY AS YOU? Ye-yes, I lied. I left you and Love. Yes, I was a goddamn fucked-up mother, I won't deny that. But I've never stalked people, I've never broken into people's houses, I've never killed anyone!" Michelle's voice was raised, full of rage.
Brian stayed silent for a moment after hearing her words. Then he rose from the basement steps where he had been sitting and walked toward her.
"Yeah, maybe you've never done any of those things. But you killed the goodness inside me. You killed my innocence. You killed my conscience!" he said, grabbing Michelle's cheeks tightly with his right hand.
"You may not be as guilty as I am in the eyes of the law. But deep down, you do know that you're the reason for all of this. If you hadn't left me, we would've been happy right now. But you chose yourself over me, over Love. And you actually thought you'd get away with this easily?"
He pushed Michelle's face back and then stood up, clutching his own head with both hands. He was having a breakdown, pressing so hard he could crush his skull if he had the strength.
"Fuck you, you sick fuck!" Michelle shouted, crying. She was furious—if her hands were free and she had a knife, she would have killed Brian right then and there.
"Why did you never love me?" Brian asked, now sitting back down on the basement step.
Michelle leaned back against the wall, looking at him for a few seconds. "I've tried. But now I realize I could've never loved you. You just asked me if I thought I could get away with this easily. Well, what about you? You—you're a goddamn killer, Brian. Are you gonna be able to live with that… and expect to get away with it?"